Chapter 2:
Light took an uncertain step towards the door. It must have been a dream, it couldn't be true...
The door was still locked, exactly as Light had left it.
He drew in a deep breath and repeated himself that it must have been just a dream. The door was perfectly locked, he had locked him with his very hands. No one had entered the room. Ghosts didn't exist.
They just DIDN'T.
Anyway, he tried to say ``Just bullshit!'' but stopped at the first syllable.
He sat down on his bed, and lay there, still fully dressed apart from his shoes.
He tried to listen to Misa's even breath to calm himself down, but he had always found that sound more annoying than anything.
After a few minutes, the weariness had the better of him and he eventually fell asleep, his sleep tormented by that familiar voice, that face, that scent that always haunted his dreams.
…
When Light woke up, it was all dark around him. He blinked a few times trying to focus on something in the surrounding room. He used to shut the window so that not even a gleam of light passed through it, but usually, he could at least distinguish the transparent window from the opaque walls af his room. Now, he hardly could.
It took a minute for him to understand that he was wrapped under a heavy blanket: that was why he couldn't see anything. He also felt that the room was far warmer than how he could remember it: a pleasant heat that got into his skin bones-deep, coddling both his body and his soul.
Eventually, he emerged from the blanket and found that the bed was empty. Maybe Misa had got up already... weird, though, it looked like it was still late night.
Light glanced at his alarm clock. It was 11.45 pm.
Wait... 11.45 pm?
How could it be 11.45 pm? He clearly remebered that he hadn't even caught the bus at 11.45! The clock must have been broken...
His eyes wandered through the dark room, and he started realizing that there was something wrong with it, but he couldn't exactly figure out what it was. He could have just turned the lights on and dicovered it, but for some unexplicable reason he didn't feel like doing it.
And for a similar unexplicable reason, he had the feeling that he should have waited until midnight for something to happen. He didn't know exactly why midnight: maybe because in the stories, weird events always took place at midnight.
So, he decided to lie awake and wait until midnight: he set the alarm clock, just in case he had fallen asleep.
...
The quarter of hour which separated him from midnight was so long, Light sometimes checked the clock thinking that he must have dozed off and missed the alarm.
But now, he wasn't tired at all, his mind working feverishly: he would have more likely gone to Heaven or Hell than to sleep.
Light thought about what had happend before, he thought about it over and over, but he could make nothing of it. The more he thought, the more perplexed he was; and the more he tried hard not to think, the more he thought L's ghost bothered him exceedingly. Every time he resolved within himself, after mature inquiry, that it had been all a dream, his mind flew back, like a strong spring released, to its first position, and presented the same problem to be worked all through, ``Was it a dream or not?''
And then, the alarm rang. Light sat up immediately, startled by the unfamiliar sound. Or better yet, it had been a familiar sound... three years before!
Light hadn't the time to think it through, because a hand, a hand I say, took the alarm clock away from Light's.
It was a very pale, feminine hand, and Light, stunned, looked up to see the owner of the above mentioned hand.
He found himsefl virtually face to face with the unearthly visitor, as close to it as I am now to you, and I am standing in the spirit at your elbow.
It was a strange figure, more of a child than of a woman, wearing the purest white tunic, almost as if it wasn't made of fabric but of sheer light.
There was a sort of glitter, a sparkle on her skin, one could describe it as the way stupid Twilight's vampires use to sparkle: but differently from them, this sparkle was not still bur rather moving... it glittered on an arm first, then on the other, then on one leg, the other, both legs... it was like it was something alive... no, it was like the figure was made up of very tiny, microscopic little gold triangles which was rolling and twirling all over her body. Something absurd but fascinating at the same time...
- W-who... who are you?
Light managed to ask.
- I am the Ghost of Christmas past.
The spirit answered, her voice soft and barely audible, as if it were at a distance.
Light looked more closely to the spirit, and he startled. He opened his mouth as to say something, but the words didn't come out.
The spirit was still smiling softly at him.
- Yes, Light. It's me.
Light's eyes widened: was the spirit able to read his thoughts? He wanted to look up, but he didn't dare to look her into her eyes, and, moreover, he was still fascinated by the golden sparkle of her skin.
- There is nothing wrong if you are marveled by me, Light Yagami. I come from a world that is not yours to see... not yet, at least.
Light forced a faint smile and glanced at the dark haired woman's eyes.
- S-so... you're the Ghost of Christmas past.
- Of your past, Light.
Every time she said his name, he felt like a shiver in his spine. What was it? How did they call that sensation...?
- They call it "regret" Light, I think. But nevermind, we're not here to talk about that, now.
He bit down his lower lip as he used to do when he was nervous or worried about something... there was only one person that had noticed this particular tic of his.
- Come on, Light, rise and shine!
The spirit said smiling at him, offering him her hand.
He got up, but didn't touch her sparkling hand.
- Quick Light, I haven't got much time, and there is something I want to show you.
Light didn't dare to disobey the ghost, so he followed her. She leaned forward to turn the lights on, and Light blinked twice to get accustomed to the bright light.
His heart lept up when he recognized the room.
- Do you recollect it, Light?
Light felt like a lump in his throat that prevented him from speaking, but managed to put togheter a decent answer.
- Recollect it? I could tell every object and piece of furniture in this room even if I was blindfolded...
It was the room he used to share with L. The room they had shared for months while they were chained togheter and then again secretly when Light had finally been released.
Every. Single. Inch. Every single inch was a stab deep down in Light's heart. The bright red curtains which used to be the first thing he saw when he woke up at morning, the two big pillows he used to hug both when he was alone in the bed and L had gone working. The soft carpet which allowed him to walk around shoesless all day on Sunday, when the task force had gone home and he and L finally had some time for themselves.
Light's gaze dwelled upon every inch of the room, every object, every colour, every fabric, every small detail, as if he was trying to fix them all in his mind forever.
He had waited so long to see that room again, and thought that he would never, and now, he was there...
- We need to move on Light... there's something else I want to show you.
Light was like enchanted by the room, and the spirit had to tug his arm to take him back to reality.
- Follow me, boy.
She held his shaky hands and led him in the hallway, then in the elevator, down to the floor where they used to work.
They entered a dimly lit room, and there he stood... bent on something Light guessed was his laptop.
- No, Light, that's not his laptop. Not tonight.
Light couldn't help but trying to get closer to him, but then he stopped and looked back at the spirit with questioning eyes.
- He has no consciousness of us.
The spirit explained him.
Light nodded. He would have liked him to have consciousness of them. He would have liked to tell him... things, things he had been thinking over and over for the past three years.
Anyway, he instinctively stepped closer to the figure, his steps uncertain, his knees felt so weak he was afraid they could have failed from one moment to the next.
L was intent upon a small box, apparently packing something. He was putting such a care in his task, one would have said that it must had been something of vital importance.
Light leaned further forward and he saw that L was handling and wrapping up a small box in a bright red paper.
- What is it?
He asked the ghost.
- Mmh... looks like a present, to me.
- Yes, I know it, I mean... is it a present to whom?
- How am I supposed to know that?
- You... you're a spirit! You're supposed to... to just know things.
Light muttered.
The ghost smiled softly.
- Lean forward. Don't worry, he cannot see nor hear you.
Not that Light was that glad he couldn't.
- You know to whom that present will be.
The ghost added. Light did as he was told, and when he was very close to L, he understood.
- Oh.
He just said.
- Oh...
The ghost echoed him softly, a kind of sad smile in her voice.
Light tried to get a hold on himself and asked:
- Why... why are you showing me this?
The ghost didn't answer.
In the meanwhile, ignoring the fact that L couldn't clearly sense his presence, Light had leaned even closer to the detective, sitting on the floor just next to where L was sitting.
He had moved his nose not farer than a couple of inches away from L's hair, discovering that even though L was unable to sense him, Light instead could not only see him, but also feeling the heat coming from his body, the scent of his shampoo on his dark hair.
Before the spirit could interrupt him, Light put his hand on L's neck, just beneath the hairline, and start gently rubbing his fingers on the detective's sensitive skin.
Of course, L didn't even flinch at the touch he wasn't actually feeling.
After a minute or so, Light felt the spirit's questioning eyes on him.
- I know he cannot feel it.
He explained.
- But... I think that... I don't know, maybe somewhere... somewhere deep inside his soul he might be feeling something... he might have the weird feeling that he's not alone here, you know? It sometimes happens that you have like a feeling, a sensation which is not linked to anything really happening around you, anything material...
The spirit only looked at him without speaking, a tenderness in her eyes that was undoubtedly not well placed, given what Light... what he had done to her.
- And, besides...
Light was still speaking,
- I do feel it...
The ghost stepped closer to him and gently put a hand on his shoulder.
- Let us go on, Light. My time is running out... we have to move on.
Light shook his head worriedly.
- No. No, leave me here. I'm staying here.
- He won't ever be able to sense your presence, Light.
- I know, I know, but... I will. Please... leave me here.
- Follow me boy, your way is still long before you can rest...
That said, the ghost put her golden hand on Light's arm, and before Light could inhale L's scent for the last time, they were gone.
Light tried to catch hold of the figure in front of him, but it faded as it was made of smoke, and the setting around them changed quickly.
Light found himself in a badly lit room, looked like a teen age bedroom.
- Where are we?
- You don't recognize the place?
As soon as Light got used to the darkness, he did recognized it.
- Why here?
The spirit didn't answer, like she often did.
And then the lights were turned on, and a young boy entered the room.
- Holy shit...
Light mumbled.
- That's... that is me...
Light looked closely at his younger self.
The boy sat down on his desk, opened a book and his pen case and started putting all the pens and pencils and highlighters in a row.
Light smiled, feeling a lump in his throat.
- A-I... I always did that... I prepared all the things I might need before starting to sudy, you know, I used to be... very tidy, very precise...
- Mmh,... I see...
- I was... studying for the Todai admission test then...
Light said, and the lump in his throat grew larger and larger as he remebered who he met on that test.
But then his former self pushed his books asides, and opened the first drawer of his desk.
The one in which he used to keep his Death Note... but he hadn't found it yet, at that time.
Instead, there was one of Sayu's notebooks. The younger Light opened it and started checking through her sister's homework, adding some notes and corrections here and there.
- What a good brother were you...
The spirit commented.
- You took care of your sister even before studying for your own test.
Light shrugged his shoulders.
- You know, checking Sayu's homework only took me a... a few minutes.
He said, his voice faltering.
- What's going on with you, Light?
Light shrugged his shoulders again, and shook his head too, to emphasize it.
- Nothing... it's just all... weird, you know.
- Well, I've never... experienced something like this, to be honest.
Light remained silent and still for a minute or so.
He clearly felt his eyes getting wet, and couldn't help it, since he was feeling like something heavy had fallen on his heart, squeezing it as it was a sponge, and giving a freer passage to his tears.
He tried to get a hold on himself and looked at the spirit. She should be able to read his thoughts, but now she looked puzzled. Maybe she didn't know exactly what was going on with him because Light himself didn't know it.
- I-I don't know...
He justified himself, wiping a couple of tears away with the back of his hand, pretending to be just moving a light brown lock away from his eyes.
- It's just... so weird. F-five... five years have passed since then and... they... feel like five hundreds to me...
He commented.
He watched his younger and forgotten self as he walked out the room, probably heading to Sayu's room.
So cheerful, so light-hearted. No one real concern in the world was lying heavy on his shoulders. Well, actually, he wasn't exactly what you would describe as a "cheerful" teen ager. He was rather reserved and pondering, instead, he had always felt bored by the world around him.
But you know, looking back at all of this with hindsight, he undersood that he had no real problems or concerns at that time. He had his whole life still waiting for him, he had every chance in the world.
He hadn't got the Death Note...
- It's time to go, Light... you've seen what the people who rule me wanted you to see.
- But...
- Come on, Light. You cannot go back to this. It's gone...
- Yeah... yes. I know.
He knew he couldn't but yet he wanted to come back so badly...
But the spirit took no pity on him, or couldn't really help him, and grabbed his arm while everything around him slowly faded away, and Light felt like a dark cloak had fallen onto them, until he finally started seeing a gleam of light again.
- Why still here?
He asked the spirit, when he realized he was in L's room again. Not that he was complaining about that.
- I'm leaving you here,
She said, and Light's heart pounded in his chest at the thought he would have been allowed to stay there.
-... until the next ghost comes and pick you up.
Oh life... one moment brings you so high, and the moment later it roughly pulls you back to the ground again.
Light sat sadly on the edge of the bed.
- It's time to say goodbye, Light Yagami.
Light nodded slightly, looking at his own feet.
- Your journey is not finished yet, boy.
Light was fidgeting and biting his lip, as the ghost just looked at him with a motherly affection.
And somewhere deep inside himself, Light had the desire to punch her on the nose, because why the hell did she have to be so fucking compassionate with him?
- My time has come, Light. I must go now. Take care of yourself...
Light lifted his eyes, just in time to see the ghost slowly vanishing in a flash of gold, while suddenly all the lights in the room were turned off.
- No, Naomi, wait, I'm...
He was trying to say, but she was gone already; only a few small drops of gold stood where the girl used to be.
- … I'm sorry...
Light mumbled, only an empty room to hear him. It was too late now.
It was one of his distinguishing feature, he thought. Always understanding things a little too late.
…
He curled up on the king sized bed, nuzzling up against the warm sheets and pillows, realizing that they still smelled of L.
Somewhere deep inside he knew this was going to be over soon, but he wanted to take the most of it he could before it faded away.
Everything he had done... he had done it for a higher purpose.
He had done it to help the world becoming a better place.
Yet you know, it was bloody easy for Gods, they lived forever... but he... he had been given just this short life... and what if he had wasted it?
He nuzzled up more close against the pillow and hugged it as it was a human being, closing his eyes and... kind of praying.
He didn't believe in any deity in particular, he just hoped that there were someone... anyone up there listening to him.
- Please, make me stay...
He prayed.
- Make me stay and wake up tomorrow and nothing, nothing in...
He held back a sob and bit his lip so hard he drew blood from it.
- Nothing in the past three years has happened... please...
He whispered in the dark, slowly falling into unconsciousness.
His last thought was the feeling of L's skin and hair under his trembling fingertips... and then he was asleep.
...
A/N: poor Naomi... :(